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An unnecessary torture

It’s been a while since I last blogged. This morning as I was trying to get my day started, I was asking myself why this was.

For a while I considered writing to be an outlet, therapy in a way. A way to help me deal with all the ups & downs that come with the life of being married to a man in uniform. It was working great, but lately writing seems like an unnecessary torture. Writing forces me to sit and really remember the fact that my husband is gone again, has been gone for the past 4 months, and isn’t coming home as soon as I’d like. Writing makes me think about how much I miss him, and how much I wish our little family was back together. Thinking about it makes me sad. Thinking about it makes me cry more than I’d like to admit. Thinking about it makes the time seem like it’s never going to end. I don’t want to think, so I don’t write.

Rather, I’ve chosen to come home every day and do my best to zone it out. Zone it out by wasting countless hours watching TV or surfing the internet, by working out, or hanging out with friends when our schedules actually match. I don’t know if it really works, if it really stops my brain from thinking about everything, but I like to pretend it does. And we all know I’ve become pretty good at pretending…

All I know for sure is that I want to be able to fast forward to homecoming. Zoom through the tears, the lonely nights, the 1-person meals, the phone calls that are never often or long enough. Skip to the next chapter in our love story where I am finally back in his arms, and don’t have to say goodbye again for another few years. Oh, that sounds amazing!